My trip to the Canary Islands was almost indescribable, but if one thing could top it it would be the next four days I would spend on Spain's east coast with Olechka. The five days I had spent away from her off the African coast had changed many things for me, and my thoughts were confirmed the second she walked into her apartment as I was already there unpacking, anxious to surprise her with a smile and a kiss. The look in her eye as she realized I was already there made it clear that she too had thought about us when I was away, and that there was something special going on between us. That night, she prepared a delicious Russian feast for Julie, Marjorie and I. The next morning the two of us headed off to the bus station on a gorgeously sunny, hot Madrid day. The Spanish countryside looked hot and dry as we rumbled on, Olechka and I in nonstop conversation between my frequent bouts of napping which are unavoidable every time I ride on a bus.
Shortly after arriving in Benidorm, we both soon realized we had appeared to have landed in an English colony. Vacation goers were everywhere. Our hotel was simple but quite nice, with a balcony overlooking the city and the ocean in the distance. Without hesitation, we changed into our bathing suits and were soon strolling toward the sea to enjoy every minute of Spanish sun we could. Our days in Benidorm were spent just like this, out under the hot sun or in the cool waters of the Mediterranean. Our nights were full of romantic strolls along the ocean, Baileys on the beach, watching the Eurocup like every other person in Benidorm, or partaking in the absolute insanity that was the nightlife that beach town. I'll just say that the English get craaaaaaazy when they go on vacation in Spain... It felt like Marti gras in New Orleans.
We saw Russia upset Holland which drew quite a few looks from the mixed English and Spanish croud, as this beautiful, blond, perfect Spanish speaking Russian girl jumped up and down nearly at the point of having a heart attack as the game grew more and more intense toward the end, speaking vivaciously in Spanish to me, and even more so in Russian to her brother on the phone. The next night, we saw another unbelievable game with a mostly Spanish crowd as Spain defeated Italy in penalty shots. The whole city went into frenzy the entire night. Life couldn't have of been better. I was living up my last days in Spain with a truly amazing person, in a paradise full of life, national pride, crazy vacation goers, and undeniable beauty. I don't think there was a silent moment between Olechka and I the entire trip. There never is. And one night, while we were at dinner, we finally arrived at the conversation we both knew needed to happen at some point. In April, I had absolutely no intention or desire to allow us to get as close as we did, but as we sat there trying to figure out exactly what to say, how to justify things to myself and to her, I realized that my ideas had changed substantially in just about a week's time, little by little, until that moment, when I just knew it would be a mistake to allow us to just leave everything that we had. We both made the same point, that while a relationship across the ocean, in a language foreign to the both of us, between two people that just 20 years earlier were considered ideological enemies in the world, and who's nations almost allowed their conflict to end life on Earth, may seem illogical, or stupid, or pointless, it would have been even more so to just call it quits because of the circumstances that life had thrown at us. Why not just see what happens? Something like this just doesn't come around very often...
